Wanting and Lacking
by Gabunny
Summary: BACK FROM HIATUS! Winry's got one last chance to get her life back after struggling with mental illness, but how many painful secrets can she keep from Ed while doing one of the most challenging jobs of her career? A darker EdWin for the shipper looking for a break from the fluff.
1. Ectoparasitic Shadows

_A darkish EdWin, from Win-chan's perspective this time. I have a few ideas for how to continue with this fic, so if enough people have some interest in it (and tell me they'd like more, lol) I'll keep writing. Hope you enjoy! )  
Oh, and name suggestions would be lovely. I'm not really sure what to call this.  
-Gabunny _

* * *

She liked shadows, and the mild escape they provided. 

It was 11pm – so, of course, everyone else in this stupid hole of a village had turned off their lights and were tucked safely into their beds. But she shouldn't really be annoyed by that – it meant that as she looked out of the bay window in the kitchen, it was nearly pitch black.

Dark was dangerous. Her pulse rose slightly as she thought of what could happen in the cover of the night. Someone could kidnap her, or rape her, or even kill her. Maybe even all three. If she concentrated hard enough the faceless man was really there, right behind her, hands reaching out to cover her mouth so her screams wouldn't disturb anyone.

It was sick, but this environment, with its primitive connection to the rest of the country and simple way of life, was suffocating. _Anything_ to break the monotony. To break the waiting.

And – she was gone, images of _him_ jumping her, miraculously appearing in the shadows to tackle her to the ground and take her right there, in the dark, on the floor, with only the most basic human instincts working overdrive.

Primal. Carnal.

Oh, _shit_, why couldn't he just be here and do all those wonderful, dark things to her.

If only it all wasn't just a dream she liked to visit in the still of the night, the calm of the shadows. If only he would maybe ever think about her that way. If only he would come back once in a while to stop her going insane.

She couldn't live like this. If there was a next time, she wasn't going to hesitate.


	2. End of Occurring Nothing

_Authors Note: After mulling it over for quite some time, I've finally got a name for this fic which seems quite fitting. Hope you enjoy; review if you do and I'll keep writing._

_This may seem like a weird platform to jump to after the first chapter, but I hope you'll stick with me. It'll get better after this, trust me._

_Shout out to Yellow Mask; thanks for actually wanting to read my fic XD Makes me feel respectable._

_-Gabunny_

Time was a curious little objective; it didn't really exist and was very, very relative. How long is long? And how short is short? Simple questions, with no answers – just something to ponder in the spaces that he wasn't there to fill.

---

It was very early morning when he arrived again. Apart from growing some he looked practically the same – and yet, something about him was completely foreign. Dimly, she knew she could find out what had happened to him since she last saw him if she wanted to – but she found herself not caring, and then she knew that she had changed, too.

No time for old promises now. Especially selfish, childlike ones that wouldn't really achieve anything.

The social normalties died before leaving her lips and she just beckoned him inside instead. He dropped his coat at the door, and they stared at each other dumbly as she tried to remember some old joke or secret freaking handshake or _anything_, but it seems that there are none to recall. What a pity.

"Coffee?" she shrugged. It was too early to get pissed, and she couldn't think of anything else to say. He nodded, and she left the room to make it. It was a useless action, but maybe it was just because she hadn't seen him in so long she had forgotten what to do. It might come back to her. Spooning the bitter powder into cups, she clung onto that hope.

Time. Was boiling water an act that took a long period of time? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember when she had last been in the kitchen, doing all these normal sorts of things that normal people do.

She handed him the cup and sat in the chair opposite him, the square kitchen table putting some distance between them. From her seat she can see the bench in the foyer he slept on last time he was here. What a long time ago that was. _That_ was a memory of long ago, she was certain.

"So" she said, putting the cup on the table and tucking her hair behind her ears – trying to act normal, whatever that was – "Why are you back?"

He stared at her a while, as though trying to figure out exactly what to say. Like there was a right answer. It was a stupid question.

"Shoulder's hurting. And I can't move a couple of my fingers" He kept looking at her.

Well…as good as answer as any. "You don't say" she said, fiddling with her hair absent-mindedly.

"Ah…so, are you going to look at it?" She looked up, startled. She was used to spending time like that; ignoring the reality by simply switching off and just plain _existing_ for a few moments before drifting back. _But he's never done that, I'm sure,_ she thought wryly. He was too busy saving the world or something to meditate.

"Ok" she answered, getting up. She moved the fingers and waved the arm around a bit. Like she used to.

"So, what's wrong? I thought maybe after a few weeks it would be okay, but it's kinda getting worse…" He trailed off; expectant for some explanation he wouldn't really understand.

Reassurance? Fat chance. He wasn't getting that this time.

"Well, I dunno" she said lamely, shrugging again. Now it was _his_ turn to look surprised.

She got up off the floor. "Shit happens. I'll look at it later. It's too hard to see in this light" She grabbed her cold coffee and marched over to the sink.

He looked stunned. Apparently, she wasn't supposed to have brushed him and _his_ needs off like that. "But…what's…" She tipped the liquid down the sink and turned to face him, expression icy as he tried to think of what to say to this new, indifferent Winry.

"Where's Pinako?" he said finally, looking at her with obvious anger at her disinterest.

"Hm. Where's Al?" she shot back, and he looked a thousand times more devastated than when she had ever hit him with a wrench.

She laughed, quickly and shrill, taking a cruel pleasure in his distress – and then she ran past him, up the stairs and into her room, locking the door and sprinting to the en suite to throw up spectacularly, considering she hadn't eaten anything for the past few days. Or was it weeks? She couldn't tell anymore. There was no time – only haze and blur.

It was obvious, as she curled over to toilet retching, that she had forgotten how to react to him. Over time she had unwittingly erased him from her memories. in a desperate attempt to move on and live her own life.

But no matter how much time passes, some memories are indefinite, and no matter how much you try, some people just don't change.


	3. Afterglow of Sound

Author's Note: A quick edit; it seems some of my lines got lost, making this story's jarring plotline even more confusing. All fixed now!

It also should be said that while I'm borrowing an anime plot device in this particular chapter, the characters in this story are based around manga Ed and Winry. Yes, they are that different, if you've only seen the anime. It shouldn't matter if you've only seen the anime, but if your wondering why Winry is so WAY out of character, it's because your missing some details in the manga that make dark!Winry a little more believable.

An update, after months of silence. My apologies to you all. Hopefully you'll be pleased to hear that the chapter planning is all done; the plot is set, this story will be finished. As far as I've planned, there will be seven chapters in all, all much longer than the first two experimental chapters. Yes, longer chapters.

The chapters have been renamed. I wanted my chapter titles to be a little more elaborate, and it's good for my vocabulary. So thank you for waiting so very patiently, and here is Afterglow of Sound. Reviews are ever appreciated!

-Gabunny

* * *

She opened her eyes slowly, the sunlight pouring in the window; making her squint. Blinking, she took in her surroundings, trying to make sense of where she was, and what had happened.

_This is a bathroom_, the blonde mechanic registered, staring at the bath and sink in her line of vision from her place on the ground. _My bathroom_, she decided when she saw a bloody razor sitting in the soap dish, left from her last bout of self medication.

She sat up, suddenly aware of a less than attractive smell. Vomit clung to her hair as she stood up, sticking to the back of her neck in an unpleasant manner.

_That's right…I threw up last night_. And passed out, apparently.

The girl stumbled over to the sink and stared at the huge bags under her eyes, head thumping from when she fainted and hit the floor. _I'm never hitting Ed with a wrench again,_ she resolved, pressing her forehead to the cool mirror and wincing in pain.

_Wait – Ed?_ Her eyes flicked open, and she remembered – _he's here!_ She whirled around to stare at the locked door, heart racing as she recalled running from him and locking herself in her room.

_Is…is he still here?_ The engineer clung to the rim of the sink behind her as she wondered what had happened since she had locked herself in the en suite and passed out. _How long has it been? Hours? Days?_ What if he wasn't here anymore?

She ran to the door and hastily unlocked it, pushing on the handle and stumbling out of the bathroom as the lock mechanism gave way under her weight.

The sun was streaming into her bedroom, too. Mechanical instruments lay haphazardly around the room; wires draped her bedside table and a collection of bolts were scattered on the dresser, oil sitting by the perfume bottles.

_Mechanic chic?_

_More weird and strange then anything, you abnormal kid._

But she didn't have long to dwell on that memory, because there was a pattering of paws – and she inhaled sharply as Den jumped off her bed and padded towards her, the odd clink sounding when her artificial leg hit the wooden floor.

"Den!" the girl cried joyfully, and the dog wagged her tail, equally enthusiastic. "Did you sleep in here last night?"

She licked at the stale sweat on her face in response, and she took the action as a sign to go freshen up. Den followed her back to the en suite, and as their shadows stretched out behind them under the glare of the radiant light beaming through the windows, the blonde girl reflected on how brightly the sun seemed to be shining, as if somehow this day was set apart from the rest, and was destined to become something truly wonderful and different.

She unlocked her bedroom door hesitantly, Den's presence giving her courage as she made her way out of her room and down the stairs. There is talking, and sounds of movement – somebody was definitely home, at least.

But it still came as a shock when she walked into the kitchen and saw a small granny instead of a small alchemist, the older woman making clangs and crashes as she pulled jars and tins out of the pantry, muttering to herself.

The blonde mechanic's mouth fell open in shock. "Gr-granny?" _It has to be a dream!_

"Honestly Winry, this place is a mess!" the small woman barked in reply, and her granddaughter shrunk back a bit at the reaction.

The older woman extracted herself from the cupboard and glared at her. "What have you been eating? Half of this food is rock solid; it's totally inedible. And that's only the cupboard," she said as she slammed the pantry door, "who knows what's hiding under the sink."

It was all too much. The younger girl grabbed the bench ledge for support as her knees nearly gave way from shock. "Granny," she started again, looking at the woman with an almost scared expression on her face. "How are you here?"

The older lady sighed and put the jar she was holding down. "Well…I wasn't going to stay away forever, you know." Pinako looked the girl squarely in the eye. "Did you really think I would do that to you?"

The blonde girl looked away and stared at her fingernails, a shamed blush curling across her face.

* * *

_She couldn't live like this. If there was a next time, she wasn't going to hesitate._

The girl laughed, scattering the silence like a flock of birds taking flight, and jumped from her place beside the window to her bed, the springs on her mattress cracking under the sudden weight.

"Ah…" she sighed, putting her fingers to her forehead as her mind spun wildly. Why was her situation so messed up? Ed was nothing but a ghost of a memory, and she was back in Rizembool for some lame-or-other reason. In Rush Valley at least, there was always something to be entertained by, always something to do - but here, here in this slow, _slow_ country…nothing.

The mechanic laughed again, but this time her mirth was humorless, merely expelling some of the frustrated tension that was coursing through her wired body.

"Life is such a bitch," the girl said aloud, staring at her bedroom ceiling, and then at the sleeping dog on her bed. "Isn't that right, Den?" she cooed, and the canine rolled over in her sleep in reply.

The blonde girl jumped off the bed. "There's gotta be_ something_ to do around here," she thought aloud, hands on her hips as she surveyed her room for inspiration.

* * *

"Oh, Winry," the old woman sighed, as the young mechanic avoided her gaze. "It's all in the past now, alright? Let's move on," The old mechanic put her hands on her hips as she gazed at her granddaughter. "You don't look at all healthy with that depressed, weary look about you."

The girl looked up, hardly daring to believe that this all too abrupt and easy act of forgiveness was real, and her grandmother patted her on the back as she broke down into tears of relief.

The rest of the day went swimmingly. Together they made apple pie, Granny correcting her when she put in too much baking powder, and nitpicking her pastry consistency; they tidied up the house and the workshop, and in the afternoon customer after customer came to get maintenance and repairs. The old woman scolded her all day for not studying any medical or automail theory since she had left Rush Valley, and the smile on the blonde girl's face just grew bigger and bigger. To top off everything Paninya rang in the evening to tell Winry about a new hand model with a much higher dexterity rating then anything else on the market, and Granny made fish for dinner. _This day is perfect_, she thought, and the sun continued, oddly, to shine brightly as it set and night started to fall.

The mechanic walked into the kitchen with Den in tow, and admired how clean it looked after Granny had cleaned it in the morning.

"Have you been letting that dog sleep on your bed again, Winry?" Pinako asked as she rummaged around for the salt in the cupboard. "There's hair everywhere on your-"

"Granny." The girl cut across the grandmother's words, troubled. "Why have you only set two plates out?"

The older woman turned to where Winry was looking. "You mean on the table? Is there someone else coming for dinner?"

The blonde girl shook her head. "No, not like a customer or anything, I mean – what about Ed?"

The old woman stared at her blankly. "What about him?"

Den whined a little as Winry jabbed at the table angrily. "His plate, Granny! I'll go get another chair," she dismissed, making for the corridor.

But the older woman replied before she could leave the room. "Winry, Edward's not here." she said quietly.

The small sound of the fish frying in the pan crashed around the silent room as the girl stopped and looked at her, confused. "Uh…he is here, Granny. He turned up yesterday morning." A ripple of anger swept through her as Pinako shook her head at her sympathetically. "He's here, Granny! His arm's screwed, he needs new sensitivity wires and he can't move three of his finge – _don't look at me like that!_" she screeched, loosing her temper as the woman failed to understand.

"Winry, we don't know where Ed is, remember? Or Alphonse, for-"

The young mechanic put her hands over her ears. "No! He's here; he's really here Granny, why don't you get it?" The lamp flickered over their heads as the ground shook slightly, but Winry barely noticed – she realized how she could show the older woman the truth.

She ran upstairs, into her room and onto the balcony, fumbling for the switch on the light she kept up there now purely for sentimental value.

_Flick._ Light. _Flick._ Off again.

She hit the switch desperately, straining her eyes over the fields for a sign that the alchemist would come back from wherever he was (_He can't be far, I know it, he was here this morning! I know I'm right!_), and show the older woman that he was really home.

_Flick. Flick._

She could hear footsteps – Granny was catching up with her, and the girl flicked the light switch quicker, growing panicky as she ran out of time.

_Flick. Flick._ Light. Light.

Her pupils grew bigger and smaller again as she stared at the bulb in the lamp. The footsteps became louder, and she felt total fear and numbing desperation. Then there was a crash, her eyes rolled up into her head, and her vision blacked out as she fell.

* * *

_Splash._ She felt the cold water run down her face and neck, and the mechanic's eyes flew open, the liquid running into her eyes and blurring her vision.

There was a dull _thud_ as someone fell to the ground beside her, and she felt her shoulders being grabbed roughly and pulled up to a half-sitting position. She blinked as someone clicked in her face; and blinked again when somebody wrapped their arms around her shoulders in an awkward embrace.

The first thing she noticed as how much her head hurt, and then the blonde girl realized that the person who had thrown water into her face and had her in a clumsy hold was Ed.

She swallowed and felt phlegm travel back down her throat; she saw the sink with the razor in the soap dish and understood.

"It," the girl said hoarsely, "was a hallucination, wasn't it?"

She felt him swallow as well; her temple against his throat.

"You hit your head," the alchemist said apologetically, equally hoarse, and her headache magnified as she was ripped back to the reality, and recounted what aspects of her wistful dream were in the past: destroyed, or out of her reach.

She could have turned around to see the kicked down bathroom door and her sparse bedroom, ransacked of all its automail tools and pieces, but she knew what it looked like anyway. Reaching up to curl her hands around the alchemist's shoulders in an attempt to reciprocate, she winced as her head ached, and as she felt Ed's remaining working artificial fingers on her back as he tried to hold her properly, it almost made her want to cry.


	4. Holding us dearer now

_Oh gosh it's been forever since I updated! D: I think people still read Edwin fanfic, I know I do! Here is the next chapter where we find out a little more of the mystery, but more questions are raised :p haha! Hope you enjoy reading!_

_-Gabunny_

* * *

_Twice I turn my back on you_

_I fell flat on my face but didn't lose_

_Tell me where would I go_

_Tell me what lead you on I'd love to know_

_-Twice, Little Dragon_

* * *

It was freezing cold in the early morning and Winry woke up before the birds had started chirping. Her right arm felt like it was going to fall off from the cold. She sat up and then moaned painfully very quickly.

"Oh, my god" she muttered under her breath, holding her head and gingerly touching a huge egg that had formed on her forehead. It was coming back to her in flashes and she was trying to get the truth straight in her nauseated mind. _Granny: still dead. Fish: still too expensive to buy for dinner. Paninya: still not talking to you._ God, the land of dreams was much more enticing than reality.

Something moved behind Winry and she fell off the bed with a yell. "Harry?" Winry said, pushing herself off the floor - slowly, so she wouldn't tempt her nausea to make her faint again and give her another bruise.

"Well, there's a conversation starter for today," the person who was sleeping next to her groaned, and when the room stopped spinning Winry saw the golden hair and realised it was Ed.

"Oh, Ed, I'm sorry," Winry apologized. Then she laughed - not the horrible manic cackle she had unleashed before being violently ill last night, but a genuine giggle that sounded more like Winry than…well, it was hypocritical of him to think "whoever this stranger is", Ed realized, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and grabbed at the opportunity to smile at her.

"This sort of mistake doesn't happen often," Winry stated, looking a little embarrassed anyway.

"I should hope not," Ed teased, stretching, his bad automail fingers spasming uselessly. "A lesser person might have been upset."

Winry bit her lip and sat back down on her bed, looking out the wide-open windows at the frost-covered lawns. "No wonder I woke up from the cold. I hope I don't get sick."

There was a silence where everyone else, it seemed, in the whole world was asleep, and Winry felt content for the first time in a long time to just stay in it, and enjoy the quiet. This was why she'd come back home: the peace could be suffocating at times, of course, but sometimes Rizembool seemed like it was perfectly still in time and Winry could relax.

Of course, Ed could never be happy with anything.

"Winry, I don't know if a cold is your greatest health concern at the moment," he stated after a few seconds. She sighed heavily and swiveled round to face him.

"Why were you sleeping next to me?" she asked, trying to change the subject. It couldn't be 4 o'clock in the morning yet, the sun was barely starting to light up the sky - why was he so intent on ruining the day before it even began?

Ed stared at her. "Don't you remember what happened last night?"

"…I've been trying. In case you haven't noticed, I have a bruise the size of my fist on the side of my face, so thinking is a little painful."

"Well, yeah, you hit your head. That's about the most of it"

Winry looked at the boy in her bed pleadingly. "Ed, can we please just try to get through some of today without you…criticizing me?"

"For god's sake Winry, you passing out is not even the star-"

"We yelled all of last night," the mechanic interrupted, trying her hardest to keep her temper, "and it didn't achieve anything."

Ed looked incredibly angry but, to her relief, he just scowled horribly at her rather than continuing his tirade of complaints.

"Ok. I'll do my best, if you try your hardest today too." Winry narrowed her eyes at him. He clearly had no faith in her ability to function as a healthy human being…but maybe after her performance last night that was understandable.

Asking to abandon argument felt like the biggest failure of all though - _which is saying a lot for me_, Winry thought bitterly. Bickering was the cornerstone of her friendship with Ed, it was their special way of communicating and handling each other, and now she couldn't stomach it. _I really lost him_, Winry thought, and she felt tears start to burn under her eyes. She'd lost just about everyone else in her life too, but forgetting how to be friends with Ed hurt the most, it seemed. _I have nothing left_. Family, friends, boys, job, money, health, sanity…and now Ed.

Maybe she wasn't managing to suppress her tears as well as she thought, because the alchemist sighed and reached out with his good hand to hold hers, looking at her with a face full of pity. That was the only way anyone looked at Winry these days, but she focused on the hand in her own. For some reason…this was different to when other people tried to comfort Winry when she'd been upset. Depending on her mood, other people's sympathy made her enraged or manic. Now, though…it felt like a fog in her mind was lifting. She could think more clearly – at least, she felt more focused on the present for the first time in months. And she wasn't lost in bad memories from the past so long as Winry focused on the alchemist holding her hand, holding her together. Plainly, Ed hadn't gone. _He's still here._

Winry knew it was probably a combination of a decent sleep (due to being knocked out), a random change in her hormones or mood, and general social, human contact that was making her feel better, making her bother to think about anything other than regrets and watching the days and nights go in a depressed, unwell haze.

But in her heart she knew it was more than that. She'd spent some weeks only ever sleeping and never leaving her bed - at some point during those lows she must have managed enough proper sleep. There had been many days before when her mood was good, but it spiked instead of plateaued, and lead her into a manic madness of automail theory, assorted pain killers and other illegal or dangerous decisions. As for socialising with other people…well, some people tried. But nobody understood what was wrong with Winry, least of all herself, and as her life turned more and more into a trainwreck people lost their patience and avoided her altogether.

His life and health might be nearly as broken down as her's, but Ed was here, holding her when her mania took over and sleeping next to her because he was worried about her injury – and truthfully there was comfort to be found in his failures; it meant there was no judgment in his eyes. The flashy alchemist who could clap his hands like a god was here in her broken home, holding her hand as she cried pathetically, trying to find the strength to face the day like a normal person.

It hurt, and it was going to be much harder than Ed could possibly imagine, but she knew she could do the job. _I have to try_, Winry thought. _If I can do this job…_ Ed had stacks of money to pay for repairs and to help out an old friend, and most importantly, he didn't know anything that had happened in the past 18 months since he last came in for repairs. If Winry was lucky, she could only answer the patently obvious questions and he would never know the whole, shameful story.

She had helped a mother give birth in isolation and chaos, she had buried the last member of her family. Winry squeezed Ed's hand and then let it go, wiping her eyes forcefully and making herself smile at him. Managing a moderate repair for the boy that soothed her sanity would be child's play.


End file.
